


01010001

by Nattalie01



Category: James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Eve Moneypenny & Q Friendship, Eve Moneypenny Ships James Bond/Q, He's too good for this world, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-SPECTRE, Protect Alec At All Cost, Q Has a Cat, Q is such a nerd, Tattooed Q
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:41:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21824035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nattalie01/pseuds/Nattalie01
Summary: Q likes to think that he's in full control of his life. Then certain agent with unbelievably blue eyes gets resurrected once again and he knows that from now on it will be just pure chaos.
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	1. Yearning

The obtrusive sound of an alarm clock was followed by the cry for help that escaped Q’s mouth. He squinted at the clock but couldn’t make anything out of it without his glasses.  
‘Computer, turn down the alarm, start brewing the tea at 97 degrees and turn the shower on 41 degrees in forty minutes’ came down the command partially muffled by the pillow.  
‘Good morning Q, all will be taken care of’ answered the male voice, unmistakably artificial.  
He thought about giving it some name but naming it 007 would make him feel like some pathetic lovestruck teenager, so he gave up that idea. Anyway, whatever he liked it or not he would have to get up from his bed at some point. He petted the cat that bumped its little ginger head into him as a form of greeting.  
‘Hullo Turing, sup Lil’ mate?’ he said affectionately, his voice still raspy from sleep.  
As he didn’t get an answer from his feline friend he got up, looked at himself in the eyes in the bathroom mirror, ran his hand through his messy, dark curls. God, he desperately needed a haircut. He rather liked the sometimes green, sometimes hazel colour of his eyes. Harsh lighting, however, didn’t do any good to hide his dark circles at any rate. He glanced over his lanky frame he was bullied for as a kid but grew used to and kind of started to like it as the years came by and stroked his arm covered in tattoos. He usually wore long sleeve at work, which meant every day, to be honest, so not many people knew about it. His boyfriends or occasional lovers usually seemed surprised to see the artwork on his skin – wires that came along his veins on the somehow impressionistic background with brushes of steel blue, muted orange and zeros and ones forming the binary code. He decided on getting ink on his skin as soon as he started living on his own as a manifesto of his independency after feeling trapped during his teenage years that he spend with his alcoholic mother. For once, he wanted to be the one that is free and careless, not the one taking questionable hacking jobs to somehow cope with living in London during his mother addiction.  
He got into his workout clothes to start his day with a quick jog like he usually would. It helped him to clear his mind and forget for a moment about the weight of the world on his shoulders. He would dare to say it was a form of meditation for him, just not that sedentary. Passing strangers on the streets with aggressive music pounding from his headphones, feeling of cold morning air against his cheeks, his heart beating faster was surprisingly therapeutic for him despite his former therapist saying that’s just running from his problems. He was constantly lying to himself that he was not hoping to see a pair of azure blue eyes contrasting beautifully against fresh suntanned skin amongst grim faces of the strangers heading to work. He took few extra laps as MI6 security guidelines and his self-preservation instinct told him and headed home using the alternate entrance.

.............

He was perfectly aware of the things that were said about him in SIS. His sense of style was a matter of discussion since his day one as new quartermaster. The thing was that his personal style was far away from formal. If he could he would show up to work in a pair of docs and his favourite tee but he was forced to follow the smart casual dress code. Besides, he didn’t want to look obviously posh on the tube, so he could just sit and enjoy some music without the fear of being pickpocketed.  
The other thing was something that not many people knew about. He usually was it total control of his expressions, emotions and the way he was perceived. If someone knew him well and was quite good at reading people then they would've been able to tell that something changed in his behaviour since Bond left. He missed their cheeky banter, the way 007 shamelessly flirted with him and that the entire room seemed to be filled with tension as he entered Q branch. Not that he would ever tell anyone that he misses James but Q Branch was definitely quieter than it used to be. There was less presence of double ohs, as the majority of them visited for equipment-related issues. 007 was the one that visited him in his downtime, bringing fresh cups of Elgrey served unsurprisingly exactly how he liked it and harass him constantly asking wherever he would make him a bloody exploding pen. He never knew that Q still kept one in his drawer but never dared to give it to him and ask him out. The thing was that Bond flirted as easily as he breathed, so you could never be too sure if he meant it. Then there was the issue of Q’s helpless romanticism. He knew that one night or casual fucking wouldn’t be enough for him, it would only make things awkward between them, as he was eager to have the whole 007 – his mind and his body.  
Eve visited him every now and then, making sure he wouldn’t collapse from hunger and exhaustion but sometimes he would see a look of concern in her eyes. Honestly, this woman was a heaven-sent and the sole reason the entire secret service didn’t collapse in the first place. Moreover, she managed to do this in her killer 5-inch stilettos.  
The third thing was constantly ongoing bets happening in Q branch. The latest one was how long it would take before Bond would come back because no one would put words ‘ James Bond ‘ and ‘retirement’ in one sentence and he would like to know it himself because he fucking missed that bastard.


	2. She was heartache from the moment that you met her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's some Bond POV. Hope you'll enjoy it.

If someone would’ve put a gun against his head and told him that they’re gonna pull the trigger if he won’t get up right now, he would consider letting them do it. He thought if he would try to open his eyes, a lightning bolt would crack his skull open. The ringing in his ears only seemed to enhance the feeling of nausea and horrible aftertaste in his mouth. He tried to remember what happened yesterday but the only thing that would pop up into his head was that there was heavy drinking involved, so at least this was just massive hangover, not a serious head injury. Oh, he was getting too old for this.

There were some things that he could not come up with such as current time, what day of a week it was but what’s worse he had no idea where he was. As much as wouldn’t want to he tried to answer the last question by the painful process of opening his eyes. It was either getting dark or dawn was just breaking, judging by the colour of the sky. He was able to hear a drunk group of youth, so he made an assumption it was the latter. To his surprise he was laying on the sofa in the living room of the flat he and Madeline bought recently. His headache was that bad, that he considered getting up to look for some paracetamol. He was not that perceptive when hungover, so he nearly jumped as he saw a man sitting in the chair, looking at him.

‘ Privet moy drug. Sorry to disappoint you but no amount of paracetamol in the world would help you, however, I know some old way of dealing with your problem. I believe you call it the hair of the dog.’ said the familiar voice and already started to pour cold vodka into some small glasses. ‘ besides, I believe that you will need it, I think that we ditched our chances for happy endings as soon as we crossed over the threshold of our beloved MI6 ’ He pointed on the sheet of paper with familiar handwriting on it on the coffee table.

‘ Yeah, I missed you too Trevelyan ’ He came up with a snarky response, his voice not working as it should be.

‘ I think that you want to read this first’

He picked up the letter.

_ Dear James,  _

_ I know that you may be confused right now and you would prefer it to hear it from me personally but it was easier for me to just leave you a letter. It may look like cowardice and maybe it is. _

_ I want you to know that it was not an easy decision for me and I am hurt the same as you are but I do not believe that it escaped your attention how our relationship worked lately. It was all wonderful and lovely at first, but as our initial infatuation wore off I feel like we burned out. _

_ I know that you’ve seen this yourself that settling down made you more miserable and unhappy that I’ve ever seen. You 'll always have a special place in my heart for you. At times, our relationship felt like it was the best thing that had ever happened to me, but lately, everything has felt wrong. It pains me to admit this, but my love for you has faded away. I can't stay in a relationship where there is no love, and it isn't fair to you to be stuck in a relationship that's a lie. I hope you're able to move on and meet someone who will love you the way you deserve to be loved. _ _ We have to be realistic when we look at our potential future together. After we had talked about our plans for the future, it became obvious to me, and probably to you too, that our futures just don't align. We want different things, and this is just too much to ignore. _

_ We should part now and learn to live without each other instead of going on together knowing it will someday end. I hate that it has to be this way, but I can't disregard my hopes and dreams for the future. I also know you would not be happy if you gave up your dreams for me either. _

_ Even though it hurts right now, this is what's best for both of us. _

_ Yours,  _

_ Madeline _

He crushed glass in his hand to the point where it pierced through his palm and caused bleeding. He felt the anger burning hot in his chest, but a sense of sorrow started building up there as well. He sighed and tried to focus on his speeding breath, his heart rate elevated. He understood it completely and somehow sensed that it would happen sooner or later but it didn’t stop it from hurting like hell. He stared blankly at his bleeding hand and released the pieces of glass he shattered. But there was something deeper, something like a strange sense of relief. Maybe it was meant to be. Maybe Alec is right and he can’t live the happy ever after. Or maybe it wasn’t love from the beginning, just lust.

‘You know, I’m not the best in this kind of things but if you wanted to talk or just simply needed a shoulder to cry on or something I’m here. Even if it means helping you drowning your sorrows. You could say I’m kind of an expert in that field. Anyway, I’m gonna bring something to tend your wound.’

He looked at his hand. The blood started to form a scab already. 

‘ Would say it’s barely a scratch.’

Alec shrugged and started getting up. Bond stopped him. 

‘ I want you to know that I appreciate it. The support and you being here. I hope you’ll stop me from getting into whatever destructive cycle I’ll start getting into in the next few days.

‘ Yeah, it’s good to see you again Bond. I’ll get some bandages. And tweezers, you don’t want to leave that glass in.’

Well, good with talking about emotions as ever.

He supposed they were coming back to London in a few days.

That was it regarding his retirement.

They were getting back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had some issues with posting this chapter, anyway the title is from Jeff's Buckley song. As always, feedback is appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is my first work in this fandom and first work here written in English, so some feedback would be nice :)  
> Not beta-ed, not britpicked, well... not even in my first language.  
> I hope that the gods of creativity will bless me with the motivation to update this work.  
> Love you all,


End file.
